


Fade to Black

by JenniferHawke



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/M, Heavy Angst, Post Dragon Age Inquisition, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-15
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-03-30 16:32:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3943765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferHawke/pseuds/JenniferHawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Just go." Hawke seethed with anger. After the destruction of the Chantry, she sends away the man she loves. For ten years, she has regretted those words. She'd give just about anything to see him again. A bitter-sweet love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Against all odds

_“I’m not proving a point. I’m changing a world. You’ve never been part of the circle. I have! The people fear what we can do, but to use that fear to bludgeon us into submission is wrong! And they do it with our blessing! And if I pay for that with my life...then I pay. Perhaps then Justice would at least be free.”_

 _“Just go.” Eva Hawke uttered under her breath, unable to look at the man she had given three years of her life to. A silence permeated the air for several brief moments that seemed to drag out for eternity. Anders stood finally, turning his gaze to Hawke. Amber eyes met her jade ones, eyes she had sought solace in for so long._

 _

“Thank you for my life. I’ll try not to make such a mess of it this time.”

And with that, he was gone, following her orders as he had so many times before.

_

**********

After the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry, Hawke found herself on the run. She was a fugitive, being blamed for the events that started the mage rebellion. As a mage herself, she couldn’t watch as the Templars slaughtered her own kind, for reasons beyond their control. No, she took a stand, and fought for what she believed in her heart was right. Hawke had thought that the Templar’s and their vengeance would always be close behind her, nipping at her heels, but soon after, circle after circle rose up and fought for their freedom. There were problems more dire than finding the Champion. Hawke became a name seldom heard, as town by town, country by country fell to the war brewing between mages and Templars.

She stayed with Isabela for a time, her friend taking Hawke wherever she asked of her, but eventually, Hawke could see the way Isabela’s once genuine smile had become forced. The pirate longed to do things on her own, to seek out adventure and excitement, not chase a ghost that would never be found. Eva couldn’t stand to drag her friend down more than she already had. She knew Isabela would have followed her into death had she asked. Hawke didn’t want that. She’d caused enough pain. One evening when they docked to stock up on supplies, Hawke disappeared into the dead of night, not wanting to be found. She’d left a note by Isabela’s bed for the pirate to find. Neither were good at saying goodbye. Isabela would understand in time, Hawke was certain.

Thus began Hawke’s search for a man hundreds were desperate to find. I won’t rest until he’s found, she promised herself. Eva was about to discover that it’s near impossible to find a ghost, unless they want to be found. 

**********

_‘How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace? When I stand here taking every breath with you. You're the only one who really knew me at all ‘ - Against all odds, by Phil Collins._


	2. Eva

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some minor spoilers for Inquisition in this chapter. Just a heads up! Thanks to Acherubis for helping me with some of the German here. Like always, please let me know what you think :)

Years ago, if someone had asked Eva Hawke where she thought her journies would lead her, she would have said anywhere but where she was now. The scent of sour ale and vomit was strong in the crowded space of the Rusty Sword tavern. Laughter filled the air from the inhabitants, most of them too inebriated to stand. Hawke wished she were one of them, not a care in the world other than when their next drink was coming. But that was not the case. She was the one serving them.

_“Just go,”_ her mind wandered to words once spoken, words she’d so often regretted as she stared blankly ahead.

“Go!” a voice broke her from her thoughts, as she turned to see the barkeep glaring at her. “You gone deaf girl? You’ve got customer’s to serve. Go.”

A weary breath left Hawke lips, as she tried to push the memory out of mind. It had been ten years since that dreadful night, and it still haunted her every waking moment. She’d been angry, no… furious with Anders. That fury took over her every thought. Sebastian was demanding his blood be spilled for the deaths that he had caused. Hawke couldn’t kill the man she loved, but she could send him away. Let him be someone else’s problem while she fixed his mess. Only when that anger began to fade the following days, worry and regret took its place. She was still seething with anger; because of him many had died and she was forced from her home, a fugitive on the run. But she loved him. Where was he? Had someone found him? As hard as she tried to push him out of her mind, the fact was that she would never stop loving him. He consumed her entire being, her every waking thought and dream. Hawke vowed that she would find Anders. Many years she travelled from town to town, places Anders had mentioned in past conversations. She was desperate to find him. Over the last decade she had been throughout Fereldan and the Free Marches, searching for past contacts. She’d even travelled throughout the Anderfels, seeing if perhaps he voyaged back to his homeland. But no matter where she travelled, it was all for nought. Anders was gone, and had been for a long time. It took Hawke a long time, but eventually, she gave up her search and focused on getting by.

Six years prior, Varric had reached her by letter, asking for help with the Breach that threatened the world. She always kept in close contact with the dwarf, updating him on her whereabouts. When she was reunited with him, she remembered how much fighting next to him felt good. It gave her purpose once again, a feeling that had long been forgotten. When she faced the monsters in the Fade, a part of her wanted to have been left behind - to be the one that fell. Other than fighting the evil that was threatening to consume Thedas, Hawke had felt little motivation to get up each day. She would have gladly died to save the others. But in the end, the Inquisitor had chosen to leave Stroud behind. Varric was relieved beyond words, but all Hawke felt was the same emptiness that had been consuming her spirit for years.

After her aid was needed no longer, she disappeared once again. She didn’t want to be found. The Seeker Cassandra had so many questions for her, questions that pained her to answer. All Hawke wanted to do was for people to forget about her. Slowly but surely, her wish was granted. The battle at Kirkwall seemed like a lifetime ago with so much having happened in between. Hawke travelled, town to town, her hand for hire in order to make ends meet. She was often met with caution, people leery of her magic. Work became harder and harder to come by, the ones willing to hire her became more and more loathsome as time went on. That’s how Hawke ended up where she was at this very moment, working at the Rusty Sword tavern in Kassel. The Anderfels had called to her once more, in one final attempt to locate Anders. She, one of the few people, knew of his birth name; Anders the nickname given to him upon reaching the Fereldan circle. Kassel was his home town. She questioned the inhabitants on the whereabouts of his family farm. After days of searching, Hawke had discovered its location, only to find it had been unlived in for many years. It seemed that the last of his line stopped at Anders, who may very well have been dead for all that she knew. No...she scolded herself. If he had died, someone would have found him. Word of his death would travel through Thedas like wildfire. Hawke refused to believe that he was dead. Thus she decided to stay in Kassel, praying to the Maker, whom she wasn’t sure she believed in, that one day he would return.

It had been three years since she decided to make Kassel her home. Three years, and she still felt like a stranger. The people were mostly cold and distant. Hawke was grateful that most of the villagers spoke Common, although quite a few of them refused to speak anything other than their native language. She had no need to use an alias, if anyone knew of her past they kept it to themselves. Eva kept her name, unwilling to let go the last remaining piece of her former life. 

Working in the Rusty Sword tavern wasn’t entirely awful. Johan always paid her when her payment was due, unlike a few other employers she had worked for. However, all the man cared about was coin in his pocket. As long as the regulars kept coming back for more drinks, he was happy. Unfortunately for Hawke, that meant she had to put up with unwanted attention more often than not. The years, while hard on her, had left her still desirable. The corners of her eyes had begun to form soft lines, just like her mothers, but aside from that, she was mostly the same woman. At the age of thirty seven, she could pass off for a woman just entering her thirties, and while she was no spring chicken, that didn’t stop the tavern’s patrons from leering.

There was one regular she particularly despised. A grey haired man by the name of Olof. He came in at least once every week, and the very sight of him caused Hawke to grimace. Mostly, she’d simply have to deal with the odd come ons here and there from the other patrons. But Olof was aggressive. Many times when she served him drinks, his eyes would deliberately wander up and down her slender frame. Most nights he asked her to follow him home, and every time she refused. No matter how many times Eva turned down his advances, Olof became all the more determined. 

This particular evening, he’d already been severely intoxicated when he arrived.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he slurred, putting his hand around Hawke’s waist. Whiskey was strongly laced in his breath. Eva removed his hand from her, not hiding an ounce of her disgust.

“What are you having tonight?” She asked, out of habit.

“You, if I’m lucky.” The men at his table all let out a laugh of approval. Eva narrowed her eyes.

“The usual, I take it?”

“You know it, schöne.” he smirked. As Eva walked over to the bar, she could hear the men at his table lower their tone as they began to speak in the Anders native tongue, which Olof was aware she didn’t speak much of.

“Be careful with him tonight,” responded Hans, the bartender who filed up mugs for her to serve. “He’s in quite the mood it seems.”

“I’m not afraid of him.” Eva huffed.

Hans responded with a smile. “Oh, I know you’re not. Still, men like that are reason to be leery. He’s got a reputation, you know.” In the years she had been in Kassel, Hans was the closest thing she had to a friend. She offered a small smile. 

“I appreciate your concern Hans, but it’s really not needed.”

The front door of the tavern creaked loudly as a large gust of wind entered. Eva’s eyes shifted towards the door. A tall figure stepped in, his features hidden by his dark cloak. Her eyes stayed glued to him for several moments. The man took a few steps forwards, before turning on his heel and exiting the tavern in a rush.

“Odd,” Hans remarked from behind her.

“Oh well. One last table to worry about,” Eva crooned. She picked up a few mugs, and clanked them down on Olof’s table. As she was about to turn on her heel to take another order, a strong hand gripped her wrist. She looked down in detest as Olof smiled at her, his yellow crooked teeth visible.

“Come on, schätzchen,” he said quietly. “Don’t want to make me look bad in front of my men, do you?”

“I suggest you unhand me at once, or suffer the consequences,” she practically snarled.

A man at the table laughed with amusement. “She’s a spirited little zicke, isn’t she Olof?” he goaded him on.

Olof let out a deep growl, and pulled Eva right into his lap. “Come on now. I promised them a good time tonight. You don’t want to let us down now, do you?” his breath was hot in her ear, and her stomach churned.

Without a second thought, Eva leapt off of his lap, pulling Olof up by the collar of his shirt. She pressed him up hard against the wall, her eyes narrowed in disgust.

“You touch me again, and you’ll lose those fingers!” Her grip tightened, her fingers squeezing his throat as she pushed her knee harshly into his groin. “Or perhaps something else, instead.” Olof let out a strangled breath of pain.

“Eva! You back off him this instant girl,” Johan yelled from across the room. Hesitantly, she loosened her grip, letting him sag to the floor.

“Stupid Fereldan whore,” Olof coughed on the words. For far too long, Hawke had remained compliant to everyone else’s wishes. In that moment, she lost all self control. Mana burned at her fingertips, and without thinking, she struck Olof with a flicker of lightning. Not enough to do any serious damage, but enough to hurt for days to come. A loud shriek left Olof’s lips as he cowered in pain, whispers and shouts filling the room.

“Did you know she’s a mage?”

“I don’t want no mage serving me!”

“Lass uns gehen.”

“That’s it Eva. I don’t want to see you in here again.” Johan replied sternly, unable to look her in the eye.

“Fine.” She strode away, past Hans who began to call after her. She ignored him, taking herself into the dead of the night.

The wind howled, another dust storm threatening to be on its way. Eva trudged through it, feeling every bone in her body wanting to submit to the cold. 

“Eva!” she heard a voice call to her in the nearby distance. Hans or one of Olof’s men, no doubt. Right now, she hadn’t the patience to deal with either. She quickened her stride, pulling her shawl tight to her body. 

“Eva! Please, wait!” The voice grew closer. Something inside of her told her to stop, to face her pursuer, but she trudged on. Eva summoned her mana, feeling the ever familiar tingle of magic at her fingertips in case she needed it. A moment later, a hand was on her arm. The second that night. She whipped around, anger crinkling the corners of her eyes.

A shiver ran cold down her spine, having nothing to do with the wind howling around her. Her mana died, not having left her body. The hooded figure from the tavern stood before her, his face finally revealed as his hood fell away from his face.

“Hello, Eva.”

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips.

“Anders … ”  
**********

_‘A rose by any other name, Eva leaves her Swanbrook home. A kindest heart which always made me ashamed of my own. She walks alone but not without her name.’ - Eva, by Nightwish._


	3. Once upon a dream

Nothing could have possibly braced Eva for this moment in time. No amount of hoping and praying and searching for Anders to show his face could have in any way prepared her for the rush of emotions that attacked her all at once. Memories of his face, the very one before her, swarmed her mind as if they were happening all anew.

_A crackling blaze emits from the hearth, a glow of embers dance across his skin as he tells her he loves her for the very first time. Her eyes well up with tears. She’s wanted him for so long. It feels like an eternity has passed, but finally he is with her. She feels as if nothing can tear them apart._

_Arms, strong and comforting hold her as she weeps for the mother she’s lost. She would be all alone now, but he is here to give her solace. Never has she felt such pain, not even when her father passed of a heart attack, or when that ogre struck Bethany down and tossed her aside like a rag doll. She sobs and whimpers that she has failed them all. Anders wipes her tears, and tells her that she is stronger than she realises. He’s her rock, her strength when she feels as if she has none._

_The rise and fall of their bodies, as they come together as one. Cries of passion fill the air, the only sounds in the dark of her bedroom after the sun has long since set. It is here that her title of ‘Champion’ is stripped away, and she is laid bare before him. Only he is allowed to see this vulnerability. They crest together, falling over the edge time and time again until they are spent. He holds her in his arms as they fall asleep._

_Fear grips her heart as the man she loves begins to close himself away from her. Away from all he once held dear. He is hiding something from her. She knows it. But try as she may, he won’t confide in her. She feels him slipping away, as a darkness once known as ‘Justice’ consumes all that he was. In it’s wake, Vengeance._

_Anger boils in her blood so acute it burns, as the scent of burning flesh hangs in the air, making her want to gag and cry at the same time. She loved him. How could he betray her like this? “Just go.” The last words she ever says to him. Or so she thought …_

“You…” she finally gasped, when still he says nothing. He simply stared at her, both of them not sure where to go from here. His face was almost just as she remembered. Age had taken its small toll, fine lines surrounding his eyes and marking his forehead. He had a scar too, one that caressed the length of his cheek. She reached out to touch it, but pulled away hesitantly.

“A templar’s blade almost did me in eight years ago. The man didn’t even realise who I was. Just another mage. The fool…” his voice trailed away, swept up in a memory she had not been a part of.

“It’s been ten years, Anders. I looked everywhere for you. I lost everything!” Resentment was clear in her voice, but she pushed it down. She hadn’t spent all of her time and efforts seeking him out, just to fight. “How did you find me?”

“Call it luck. I’ve spent the last year trying to locate you, Hawke.”

“Only a year? What of the other nine? Not a day has gone by that you haven’t been on my mind!” Her fingers clenched at her side as her cheeks burned hot. She’d always thought, in spite of all his flaws, that he loved her. Perhaps she had been wrong. Had she wasted all of this time, on a man who never really cared? Tears threatened to fall. Hawke summoned all of her strength, and willed them away. 

A deep breath left his lips. “You told me to go. I thought you hated me, that you would rather see me dead then at your doorstep, begging for forgiveness. Walking away that night, walking away from you was the hardest thing I’d ever done. I wanted to turn back. Maker, I almost did.” His amber eyes never left hers, the sincerity clear in his voice. “I should have, and that mistake is mine alone. I’ve thought nothing but you for the last decade of my life. I’ve regretted much in my life, but none as much as the pain I no doubt caused you. I never meant to hurt you Hawke.”

Hawke tried to still her heart. It pained her just to look at him. She could barely breathe, her heart was racing so fast. The wind around them began to howl louder, blowing her hair in a fit across her face. She couldn’t move, wouldn’t dare, afraid that if she were to take her eyes off of him for the briefest of moments, that he would vanish once again. “That still doesn’t explain how you discovered my whereabouts.”

“A few months ago, I heard through some of my contacts that Varric was back in Kirkwall. I knew if I showed my face there, I would be killed on sight. I couldn’t let that happen, not before seeing you again. Still, sending word to him was worth the risk if he decided to hand my correspondence to the guards. I knew he’d be leery about if it were really me or not. I knew in a simple letter, I’d have to prove to him that it really was me, and not an imposter. I mentioned how I tried to give him the pillow my mother made for me, as well as a few other small details only I would know. I guess he took it on good faith. His letter was brief. He wrote _‘If you hurt her again Blondie, just remember that Bianca never misses. Go to your home town. You might be surprised in what you find.”_

“Varric writes to me regularly. He ... he should have said something. Prepared me somehow … ”

“Perhaps he didn’t want to get your hopes up. You know Varric though. He’ll want to hear how this all went down.” Anders replied with a smile gracing his lips. Maker, if that sight didn’t melt her heart...

“Oh? And just what am I telling our trusted friend? That we stood outside in the cold until the cursed storm fell upon us and swallowed us whole?”

“I’d suggest we go back inside the tavern, but something tells me you want to be far away from that place.”

“Come on,” Hawke said, tugging at his hand. To her surprise, his fingers wrapped around hers, warm even in the cold. His calloused hands were so familiar, so comforting even in this unknown time. “I don’t live too far from here. Follow me.” 

Eva had no idea where the night would bring them, or if Anders was even planning on staying. There was much to be said still, some place warm and away from the dust storm that neared. Even so, she couldn’t help the ever growing beating of her heart accompanied by the fluttering of her stomach. He was really here. The man she had loved for the majority of her adult life. The man that had given her hope and reason, when she felt so lost and alone in the world. The idea of Anders had become almost like a dream, as if being with him had been something her mind had made up. But here he was, his hand clasping hers, their skin caressing each others. As her house came into view, Hawke felt just as she had, that first night Anders came to her room. Despite all of the self doubting and uncertainty that laid before them, one emotion was prominent above the rest.

Hope. 

**********

_‘I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you'll do. You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.’ - Once Upon a Dream - Disney/ Lana Del Rey._


	4. All coming back to me now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never have I ever put so much thought, energy, and tears into a romance scene. Many thanks go to MizDirected and Apollo Wings for beta’ing this chapter. My eternal gratitude goes to all that take the time to read and review. You guys make all of it worth it :)

A pang of anxiety flowed through Hawke as she opened the door to her modest home. While it seemed a palace compared to her Uncle Gamlen's hovel, its homely charm fell far short of the Hightown estate's luxury where she and Anders had resided together for years. Hawke let out a bated breath, as she closed and locked the door behind them. Both of them removed their boots in silence. A sigh of relief came forth, her feet throbbing from standing all day. Her eyes roamed over the living space, suddenly causing her to feel embarrassed at its current condition. Dirty dishes lay scattered across the table from the previous night’s meal, along with an empty wine glass. Hawke found little motivation to clean up after herself at the end of the day. She was often too tired, and as of last night, too intoxicated to be bothered with it. 

“Sorry about the mess. If I had known to expect company…”

“Hawke,” Anders interrupted. “I have been on the run for a decade. You wouldn’t believe some of the living conditions I’ve had to endure.” His hand appeared on her shoulder as he stood behind her, his voice directly in her ear. “Your place is more than welcoming.”

A chill ran down her spine. Hawke turned away from him as fast as she could, picking up a few dirty dishes that lay out on her table from the night before, and moved into the kitchen. His presence, while not unwelcome, made her uneasy. Ten years was a long time, and even though she’d been searching for him, she felt as though she’d brought a stranger into her home.

“A drink?” she stammered out, not able to look at him. Anders chuckled.

“Sure. A drink with you sounds wonderful.”

Eva dumped the dishes into a bin to be washed later, and gathered two glasses from the cupboard. She came back into the living room, seeing that Anders had lit a fire in the hearth. He accepted the glass of wine, raising it with a twinkle in his eye.

“To finding one another, after all this time.”

Hawke too raised her glass, letting it clink against his before taking a huge gulp. She needed to relax. Her stomach tied itself in knots, still unbelieving that he stood just inches before her. Now in the light of the fire, she could see the grey that had touched his hair. He was older, they both were. This time, she didn’t stop herself when she reached out, running her fingers through his strands. Anders nuzzled into her caress, cupping her hand with his, and resting his cheek against it for a few moments. He smiled, genuinely, before placing a tender kiss to her palm. Her heart raced faster, as she found herself unable to move. She simply stared at the man before her, unwilling to think of anything but the way his touch warmed her, made her feel safe and cared for.

“Anders … ,” she finally spoke, incapable of finding the words to describe the whirlwind of emotions that swirled through her like waves pouring into a tide pool. 

“I know, Hawke. I know. It’s been so long.” As always, Anders seemed to know what she felt without her having to tell him. Maybe, despite the time apart, he still knew her just as well as he always had. “But when I look at you now, I see everything that I left behind. I’ve missed you so.” He placed his wine glass on the mantle, his arms slipping around her waist, his hands pressed into the small of her back, inching her closer. 

He stood so close to her now, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. Those nights they spent together so long ago came back to her in an instant. The feel of his skin against hers, the way he made her toes curl, basking in the afterglow, their hearts racing. Even now, the electricity crackled between them, the way his eyes gazed upon on her, like a man dying of thirst. She let out a gasp, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. She nearly dropped her own glass. Her fingers shook around it, signalling her to place it next to his on the mantle. 

“It’s been ten years Anders. I need...I need a second to catch my breath. You’re here. You’re actually in front of me. I need to process this all.” Being in his presence completely overwhelmed her. An entire decade she searched for him, desperate to find the man she loved. She’d wanted to tell him she was sorry for sending him away. That she still loved him after all this time. But now that he stood just inches away from her, she was reminded of all the hurt that he caused her. 

Anders took a step back, his hands leaving her. The lack of his warmth upon her left her yearning for him. “I understand. I don’t wish to pressure you. I’ve just missed you.”

“And I’ve missed you. Maker, seeing you again...it’s as if no time has passed at all. But you have no idea what I’ve been through. What I’ve endured.”

“Then tell me. Please.”

Hawke studied him a moment. Anders had a sadness to his eyes, and suddenly he looked much older than she remembered. The frown lines in his face were deepened, even more than they had appeared a few seconds prior. “How terribly did my actions hurt you? I need to know.”

“You put me in a real shit situation, Anders. I had to leave Kirkwall. I couldn't stay, not after siding with the mages. You forced me away from my home. My friends! I had to become a refugee, after all I had done to build a life for myself. And do you have any idea what the worst of it was? Not knowing what happened to you. I tried to hate you. Maker, I tried! But I couldn’t erase the years I spent loving you. You were the only thought that consumed my mind for so long. And you know what? I can’t help but blame myself for everything that happened.” Hawke’s breath became ragged. Every ounce of pent up anger and devastation poured from her words, her face hot from the fire that burned within her veins. She never imagined their reunion turning into a heated discussion. Every time she’d thought of what she would say to him when they finally came face to face, she imagined running across to him from a distance, and leaping into his arms, kissing him heatedly until she forgot that he was ever gone. 

“You blame yourself? Why? How could you possibly be at fault for what I did?” His brows wrinkled in confusion. Hawke cast her eyes over his features as they crinkled, trying to read the lines as she had a decade ago. She saw the many faces of that man - the healer, the vigilante, and the lover. But it was the broken fool who greeted her now, the man who'd lost it all and was now faced with the only person who blamed themselves for a bloody war more than he blamed himself. 

“Because I was there Anders! Anyone who knew you could see Justice taking over. You slipped further and further away from me. I knew something was terribly wrong. And I helped! You asked for my assistance, and even though I knew you were hiding something, I didn’t even bat an eyelash. You had me wound around your little finger for years, and you knew it! I can’t help but wonder if you ever did love me. Or was it part of your plan from the beginning?” 

Tears began to well up in Hawke’s eyes, gathering along her lower lashes. Ten years worth of self doubt, self-loathing, and heartache burst through their cell door. Her body trembled, as she looked upon Anders, his own eyes filled remorse. 

“Oh sweetheart,” his voice cracked. “Don’t you ever think that for a moment. You’re the love of my life, Hawke. And even though I made a terrible mess of it, as long as I had you by my side, I felt like the luckiest man in all of Thedas.”

His words reached out to her, touching something deep inside, as they had so many years before when he came to her bedroom to proclaim his love for her. The anger that burst within her a moment ago began to subside, and in its wake; longing. She couldn’t hold back a second longer. She wanted him, yearned for him, for far too long. A cry left her lips as she lunged forward, capturing his mouth with her own. Anders instantly retaliated, pulling her body close against his as he moaned against her lips. He tasted of sweet tea, and smelled of sandalwood and elfroot, just as she remembered. A shiver ran down her spine as his fingers wound into her hair, pulling ever so lightly that it felt heavenly, something he always did to drive her crazy. Just as she’d said, she was wound around his fingers, literally and figuratively. Hawke’s resolve slowly melted second by second, as the kiss heated and every hair on her body stood on end. Strong calloused hands roamed up and down her body, teasing her until finally they cupped her breasts over her shirt.

“Anders,” she gasped, finally breaking the kiss. Her legs felt unbalanced, like she would topple over if he backed away from her. The mage before her chuckled deep in his throat, pressing his body harder into hers. She could feel how aroused he’d become, matching her own desire. Maker, she loved that even after so long, he still desired her. A whimper left her lips, knowing she could still have that effect on him.

“Where’s your bedroom, love?” his breath ghosted across her skin as he whispered into her ear. Hawke nodded her head in the direction of the small hallway. Before she could even open her mouth to speak, Anders hoisted her up, kissing her again. Eva wrapped her slender legs around his waist, softly nibbling at his lower lip. He let out a groan, causing her to laugh. He always did go crazy when she did that.

They somehow made it into the bedroom, bumping into the wall a few times on the way. Still hoisted upon his waist, Hawke grabbed the bottom of her tunic, and lifted it over her head. As soon as it hit the floor, Anders’ mouth latched onto her collar bone, suckling at the tender skin there. A sigh of approval left her lips. The blonde mage smiled, laying Hawke gently on her bed. She opened her eyes, her cheeks flushed with arousal, to see him gazing upon her with complete adoration in his eyes. Neither of the pair dared to move for several long moments. Her breathing became heavy with want, and suddenly she became a little self conscious as to why he had stopped ravaging her. 

“What is it?” 

“You’re beautiful. Maker, I’ve missed this view.” A blush crept into her cheeks at the sound of his words. He climbed upon the bed, looming over her. Hawke eased herself back over the furs. Anders placed his hands on either side of her lithe frame, stroking up and down her ribcage. A shudder ran throughout her, his touch setting her nerves on fire. Gooseflesh formed in tiny bumps across her skin. Hawke tugged his shirt over his head, pulling him down for another kiss afterwards. Anders complied to her wishes, his tongue gently encircling her own. The sensation of his warm flesh against her own nearly brought tears to her eyes. His blonde chest hairs gently tickled her skin. Her nails ran patterns across the flesh of his back, red welts appearing in their wake. Anders trembled above her, causing Hawke to break away from the kiss and laugh.

“Still remember all of my weaknesses, I see.” 

“A few.” She chuckled.

Anders cocked an eyebrow at her, a glimmer of mischief appearing into his amber eyes. “Two can play at that game, darling.”

Calloused hands unclasped her breast band, pulling it away from her body. Strong fingers stroked at her lush breasts, ever so gently plucking at her erect nipples. Hawke closed her eyes, melding into her pillow as she allowed the pleasure to consume her every thought. Just as soon as she felt comfortable, his touch became cold as ice. Eva’s eyes shot open, gasping for air, as she saw the visible mist of mana flowing from his fingertips. He manipulated the temperature coming from his caress. Although his touch felt like winter, it sent heat all the way down her limbs and straight to her core. The tiny hairs covering her pale form stood on end, as his mana swept across her skin, reacting to the own within her veins.

“You’re trembling, Hawke.” She forced her eyes to meet his own. The man was smiling, of all things, proud that he could reduce her to a puddle within mere seconds.

“And you’re a terrible tease,” she muttered, barely able to form the words. 

“I’m just getting started, sweetheart. I have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Without another word, his mouth attached to her right breast. Light kisses peppered the milky white skin surrounding her nipple. Hawke arched her back, desperate for his touch. His strong hand palmed her other breast, when he finally took her into his mouth and sucked. Saliva coated her erect peak, warming the flesh that had been cold just moments before. She dared to look down at him, their eyes meeting. Hunger burned within him, his honey eyes intense and dark with need. Hawke whimpered at the sight. She missed the way his hands felt on her skin, the way his tongue laved at her like she were his favorite treat. So many sensations overwhelmed her. The gentle flicker of his tongue across her flesh. The tickle that caressed her skin when his hair brushed against her. The sound of him suckling her breast, as her gasps filled the air. 

Anders switched off, lapping her opposite breast with his mouth, while his fingers tweaked at the peak that his mouth was previously on. His digits glided with ease across her skin, still slick with his saliva, making her skin all the more sensitive. She’d been so fixated on how incredible his mouth felt on her tender flesh, she didn’t feel cold as she always had alone in this room, needing two blankets around her at all times to keep warm. Anders nipped at the skin under her breast, distracting her as one of his hands traced down her abdomen. Once she’d been nothing but hardened muscle. Eva lost a lot of her tone over the years, not battling nearly as much as she once had. Still slender, but more fleshy than she had once been. Hawke thought for the briefest of moments to feel insecure, but her lover didn’t seem to even notice. She let out a deep breath, deciding to relax and enjoy what was to come. Anders unlaced her trousers, his fingers working expertly as he planted a trail of soft kisses down her torso. Her eyes fluttered closed, the anticipation nearly unbearable.

Anders took his time, exposing one leg from her trousers. He caressed her ankle with kisses. Hawke laughed joyfully, a sound she’d long forgotten. In turn, Anders let out a chuckle, removing her trousers completely. He took the opposite leg in his hand now, kissing from the base of her foot, all the way up to her knee. Lips met flesh, as he continued to trail up her thigh. When he reached the junction where her legs met, he stopped.

“Spread your legs for me,” his voice came out as a deep whisper. Hawke needn’t be asked twice. She knew well from experience what pleasure surely awaited her. Her legs fell apart at his command. His fingers trailed over her small clothes ever so gently, stroking a damp spot that had formed. She felt hyper-sensitive, the magic he’d used earlier setting her every nerve ending alive. Or perhaps it was due to the amount of time they had been apart. Countless nights, she thought of such a scenario, imagining the way his hands would feel against her most sacred place. But even her memory paled in comparison. She had never been so acutely aware of his, or any other’s, touch before. Ever so slowly, Anders peeled her smallclothes down her legs, tossing them aside to where the rest of her clothes were piled on the floor. Smooth fingers stroked her outer lips. Another chill ran through her, causing her back to arch and her voice to come out in a sharp gasp. 

“You’re so wet for me already, love.”

“I’ve wanted this for so long. I need you, Anders.”

Another smile graced his lips, as the mage sprawled out on his stomach, his face hovering just inches above her. So close, she could feel his warm, teasing breath on her center. Anders knew all too well how Hawke loved the slow build up. She always had. He blew a gentle breath against her sensitive nub. The sensation of his breath, the anticipation of feeling his lips against her most delicate place - it nearly drove her to the brink of madness. Her hips bucked upwards against her will. Anders chuckled.

“Alright sweetheart. You’ve waited long enough.”

One of his fingers circled teasingly around her entrance before slowly dipping inside to the first knuckle. Hawke moaned, unwilling to keep quiet, as he plunged the rest of his digit inside of her. Instantly, her inner walls fluttered around him.

Anders groaned, breathing against her once more. This time, the teasing ceased, as he dipped his face forward, and licked a line up her clit. Pleasure, so intense it nearly blinded her. She couldn’t stop from crying out. Anders worked his tongue against her. Slowly at first, as if he just wanted a taste. He lapped at her gently, small tentative licks, as his finger probed and stretched her tight sheath. Soon his strokes were uneven, as he drew out patterns across her swollen nub, keeping her guessing about where he would hit next. The slick glide of his tongue felt exquisite. Anders suddenly withdrew his finger, leaving her feeling empty. A whimper escaped her, as she peered down at him, mourning the loss. He drew his finger to his lips, sucking the taste of her off of him. The sight so erotic, she felt herself becoming even more aroused than she had already been, if that were even possible. His eyes were intense on hers, as he slowly dipped forward, this time pressing his wet tongue inside of her.

Hawke’s back arched off the bed, as she cried out loudly. The sensation of his tongue, pressing in and out of her became pure bliss, feeling even better than his finger had. Her fingers clawed into her blankets, winding tightly until her knuckles grew white. As her eyes closed, she remembered the last time they had done this. Back then, it had been velvet sheets her fingers grasped at, not thick wolf furs. 

“Maker, Anders,” she gasped, her toes curling. “That feels … so good.” Hawke peered down to gaze upon his face. Their eyes met, unwilling to move from one another. She examined him, as if he were a painting, searching for flaws in the strokes. She found none, every scar, every line of his body - he was perfect, exactly who she wanted. 

After a few moments of pause, Anders let out a groan of his own, trailing his tongue back up to her clit. He sucked gently, easing two fingers into her now. The noises he made as he feasted upon her were needy, and so very erotic to her ears. Hawke loved the way he enjoyed bringing her pleasure, as if it were all he needed to be sated. His fingers curled inside of her, stroking her at just the right angle. It had been so long since she had anyone tend to her needs. All she had for comfort was her own hand in the dead of the night, and more often than not she’d been left feeling unsatisfied. The pleasure blooming inside of her began to mount higher and higher. Her legs shook almost violently.

“Let go, Hawke.” Anders whispered against her, before flicking his tongue against her again. His seductive voice with the caress of his wet tongue did her in. With a loud wail, her climax erupted from her, the most intense she’d ever had. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over her, so violent that she couldn’t breathe. As her orgasm took over, her mind flashed images of their life before it had fallen apart. The way he would talk her through her climax. His strong arms holding her tight after she’d come down. The smell of her on his skin. Suddenly, it became too much at once. The pleasure turned into pain. Hawke tried to suppress it, biting down on her lip in an effort to regain control over her body, but it was no use. Tears fell from her eyes, as a sob escaped her lips against her will. Her body no longer shook from the bliss that consumed her a second ago. It heaved from the emotion no longer willing to stay dormant.

Hawke covered her eyes with one of her arms, trying to hide her tears. Her heaving body gave her away, despite her best efforts. In the blink of an eye, Anders cradled up beside her, pulling Hawke into his arms.

“Love? What is it? Please, talk to me,” his voice whispered in her ear as he stroked her hair. More tears fell, as the familiar feeling of being in his arms tormented her. A bittersweet moment. She longed to be with him for so long. But at the same time, he hurt her beyond words. Her life had been taken away from her in a single moment. How many tears had fallen because of this man? And even so, she still loved him.

Anders tilted her chin up, wiping away the tears on her cheeks. “Eva, if there’s something I did … I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was…” her voice croaked. “I am. It’s just… being in bed with you reminds me of what we had. What you took away from me. I was devastated Anders. I spent so long looking for you. None of this feels real.”

A pregnant pause filled the air for several long moments. “Do you want me to leave?” Anders’ eyes held a sadness, as he sat forward. His words plucked at her heart, fear gripping so hard it felt as if she’d been punched deep in her gut. The pounding in her chest hurt, unbearably so, as panic sank in.

“Don’t you understand? That’s what I’m afraid of. Now that I have you back, now that you’ve returned to me … I couldn’t bear it if you were to leave again. I love you Anders. Maker take you, I hate you but I don’t want to go on in a world you aren’t a part of!” 

Her chest heaved with another sob. Anders shook beside her, his own emotions spilling from him. “I don’t deserve you. I never did,” he choked out. He took her hand in his, squeezing it tight. A tear of his own cascaded down his face, falling onto her hand. “But I can’t leave you. I won’t. I’ll be right here until the day I die. I know I promised this to you once, but this time, I mean it with every ounce in my body.”

Hawke wrapped her fingers around his neck and pulled his mouth to hers. The kiss became desperate and needy as she whimpered into him. She could taste the tang of herself on him. Frantically, she pulled at the laces on his trousers. She needed him, all of him.

“Hawke,” Anders exhaled. “We don’t have to continue. I’m more than happy just being with you for the night.”

“I’ve waited so long for this,” she whimpered, her voice still croaked from her crying.

“I’m not going anywhere, Hawke.” Anders pulled her down to lay beside him. His calloused fingers circled her temple, using a wave of magic to soothe her. Her breath was ragged as she took a deep breath, trying to relax in his arms. “Shh,” he whispered into her ear. Eva closed her eyes, allowing the calming magic to flow through her own veins. He’d used this spell on her before, after her mother had died and she had great trouble falling asleep. A few moments passed, when Hawke realised how exhausted she’d become. She attempted to sit up, but Anders pulled her back down against his chest. 

“Rest, Hawke.”

“I’m afraid you’ll be gone when I wake up.”

“The only thing that could tear me apart from you is death itself.” As grim as his words were, there was a sincerity behind them, and deep down, Eva knew he spoke nothing but the truth. Her mind slowly drifted off as her breathing became labored. Soon, she was in a deep sleep, becoming absorbed into the fade.

There, she roamed a field, the grass greener than a freshly picked apple. It tickled her bare feet, the plush grass dewy from a morning mist. The sun shone brilliant in the sky, bathing her skin in warmth. A cottage sat off in the distance, and while she couldn’t be sure why, Hawke found herself drawn to it. Her feet carried her in its direction without second thought. She latched her fingers around the doorknob of the homely wooden door, swinging it wide open.

Anders stood in the far corner of the cottage, tending to a meal. He turned his head over his shoulder, welcoming Hawke with a smile. She came to him, wrapping her slender arms around his waist, holding him tight against her. Her head lay against his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart in response to her proximity. 

“You’re here,” she beamed.

“I never left,” dream Anders replied with a grin. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against her own. A smile crept upon her face, never knowing such a joyous moment in her life. In turn, Anders began to chuckle. His laughter washed over her as if she were being showered in warm water. Hawke pulled him down for another kiss, chasing his tongue with her own. A heat burned inside her so intense, she needed him more than she needed air in her lungs.

Hawke awoke with a deep gasp. It took her a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the dark. A groan left her lips when she noticed the lingering ache between her legs. So many times she’d dreamt of Anders, awakening to feeling unsated. Her memory failed, only the briefest of moments, when she felt his unmistakable presence beside her, a warmth radiating from his body that would not be present if she were alone. She sighed in relief, rolling on her side to gaze upon him while he slept.

Never in her dreams had something felt so real. She wanted, more than anything, to leave the past behind them. To forgive and forget, to start a new life with him. Yes, he had hurt her - had left her with invisible scars embedded into her heart. But things could be different now. They weren’t in Kirkwall. Divine Victoria declared an end to the circles. They could have the future that Anders had fought for. The future he promised her. 

Never in her life had she wanted anything more, than a future at his side.

Hawke brushed a few stray blonde hairs behind Anders’ ears, causing the mage to stir in his sleep. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. He appeared to be dazed a brief moment, until his eyes set on her own.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I am,” she let out a breathy, contented laugh. “Now that you’re here.” Hawke placed a sweet, tender kiss across his lips. “What is it about you that has me completely, and utterly hopeless?”

“Love is like war, Hawke. It’s easy to start, and damned near impossible to stop.”

“You’re telling me.” Her fingers laced into his hair, tugging him closer. The ache in her loins throbbed, and this time she was determined to scratch the itch that only being with Anders could sate. 

Hawke trailed a hand down his bare chest, until she reached the bulge in his pants. Biting down her her lip, she squeezed him through his trousers, eliciting a soft moan from Anders.

“Hawke,” he hissed. “We can take things slow. I was being sincere - “

“I know,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to take things slow. Maker, Anders. I’ve waited years for this.” Her hands worked at a frantic pace, unlacing his his trousers. As soon as they came undone, she yanked them as well as his small clothes down his legs. “I need this. I need you.” The mage seemed to understand, and gave her a nod to continue. Eva took in the sight of his nude body. Several more scars kissed his pale form. A deep one resided above his navel, and a few criss crossed over his arms and legs. Hawke began to kiss them, starting at the ones on his chest. Her tongue swirled around his skin, as she moved lower and lower. Eva wrapped her hand around his member, her eyes looking into his own.

She smiled, lowering her head to place a soft kiss to the tip. Anders’ head fell back against the pillow, as she took him fully into her mouth and sucked hard. The taste that was uniquely Anders filled her mouth as she flicked her tongue around him. As she sank down on him, he began to grow fully erect for her once more. Eva had missed doing this for him. There were few things she enjoyed more than being able to make the man she loved lose control and grunt with pleasure as she worked him with her mouth. There were times when she would be the one in control, making him keep his hands by his head as she teased him, moving her head torturously slow up and down until he begged her for release. Of course, those times he would find a way to repay her with the same kind of treatment. Other nights, when she had the need to be submissive after a long and trying day, Anders would hold her head in place, as he’d thrust his hips up and down, rutting her mouth until he had enough and took her roughly from behind. Tonight felt different than any other time she’d done this for him. Eva looked into his eyes as she moved up and down, slowly, but not to tease. This act, somehow in the moment, was romantic. Beautiful even. One of his hands reached down, stroking her hair behind her ears. She moaned around him, and he gasped for air in turn.

“Eva...I must have you now, love.”

Hawke moved off from him, a line of saliva dripping onto his fully erect cock. Anders pulled her into his arms, laying her gently on her back. Their lips connected, kissing passionately as they both groaned, their hands roaming over one anothers bodies. Anders began to rub his erection against her, teasing her with every little movement. Each second felt like an eternity. She couldn’t wait a moment longer.

“Please, Anders. Please love.”

He complied with her wishes, sinking forward ever so slowly, inch by antagonizing inch disappearing into her welcoming depths. Both moaned together at the union of their bodies, relief heavy in their voices. Waiting any longer would have been far too cruel. Together they were one, just like they were meant to be. Hawke peered into his eyes, and even in the darkened room, softly lit by the fire, she could see everything thing he felt in that instant. She saw the regret for leaving her all those years ago, the tenderness that they were united once more, and the promise that he was here to stay. 

Lips gently kissed her neck, tracing up to the shell of her ear. Anders wrapped his lips around her lobe, sucking tenderly as his teeth carefully nipped her tender flesh. Eva placed her legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper into her depths. She wanted him, all of him; body and soul. 

Wind howled against her bedroom windows, the dust storm having fallen upon them. The whole word could be falling around them, and Hawke wouldn’t have noticed. With every thrust into her, every kiss upon her dampened skin, Anders brought her to new heights. She felt her pleasure mounting by the second. Whispered words filled the air; I love you, I missed you, I need you, more. Anders took her hands into his own, pinning them above her head. His fingers wound in her own, squeezing tightly, as if to claim her, and assure her that she was his. He chased away her pain, replacing it with the sweetest agony she’d ever known. It almost felt as if no time had passed, he knew each curve of her body, just how she liked to be touched. His member rubbed against the sensitive nerves inside of her, bringing her closer by the second.

“Anders,” she keened out. “Don’t stop.”

“I don’t intend on it,” he grunted, “until you come for me again.”

Their rhythm sped up soon after. Foreheads touching, Anders increased his thrusts, both of them panting each time their bodies connected. Their lips met again, silencing each others moans. Anders let go of one of Hawke’s hands, sliding it in between their slick bodies. He found her sensitive nub again, rubbing her gently with two fingers, but never stopping his sharp thrusts. 

“You want this?” he whispered in her ear, taking her lobe between his lips and sucking.

“Please,” she whined, feeling her body about to submit to the pleasure he promised. A second later, small electric pulses emitted from his fingertips, throwing her over the edge. Hawke cried out his name, sobbing into the air as the mana inside of her convulsed with each quake of her body, reacting to the magic Anders used against her. Anders released a moan of his own, as he emptied himself inside of her. Her vision sparked white behind her eyes, as she became faintly aware of his slowing thrusts. He stopped all together, but remained inside of her, still together as one. His hands on her cheeks caused Hawke to finally open her eyes, to see the man she loved looking upon her as if she were the most beautiful sight in the world.

“You are incredible,” he chuckled, kissing her once more. Hawke sighed into the kiss, as content as she could ever remember being.

“That was wonderful,” she exhaled, a sound of pure bliss.

Anders withdrew from her. Hawke let out a whimper, feeling completely empty. 

“Don’t worry love. You know it only takes a few minutes for me to get a second wind.” Eva playfully nudged his arm.

“Presumptuous are you?”

“Well, I have many years to make up for. I don’t think we’ll be leaving this bed for weeks.” Anders lay on his side, pulling her into his arms. Hawke looked into his amber eyes. He looked so content, peaceful. It reminded her of a happier time, when they were just discovering each others bodies.

“What happens now?”

Anders took her hand in his, kissing her knuckles, his soft lips tracing their shape. “Now? I commit to that promise I made you. I will remain with you, until the day I die.”

Another lump formed in Hawke’s throat. She couldn’t remember ever being this happy. She climbed into his lap, one leg on each side of him, and began to kiss him with a renewed vigour.

A laugh escaped the blonde mage as he pulled away. “So you’ll have me, then?”

“Again and again. As you said, we have a lot of time to make up for.”

Neither of them left the bed until the next afternoon, after they were both completely sated and starved from their exertions. In all of her hopes and dreams, Eva never imagined a more perfect reunion. The man she loved was back in her life. For once, all seemed right in the world.

Fate would dictate that this too, would soon be taken away from the woman that had lost so much.

**********

_‘If I kiss you like this, and if you whisper like that. It was lost long ago, but it's all coming back to me. It’s so hard to resist, and it’s all coming back to me.’ - All coming back to me now, Celene Dion._


	5. I'm a ruin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little favour: If anyone knows how to add a line break (that goes between paragraphs, to break it up), please let me know, thanks!

Hawke’s heavy eyelids opened to the welcoming sunlight that caressed her skin through the window. The heady aroma of eggs and meat filled her nostrils, her stomach immediately growling at the smell. The empty space beside her told her Anders had long since been up, and busied himself with tending to breakfast. In the two weeks since Anders returned to her, they’d spent every waking moment becoming reacquainted with one another. Initially, Hawke worried that time and hardships would have changed Anders, or perhaps she would no longer be the same woman he remembered. To her great pleasure, Anders made her feel just as he did when they first fell in love. Their relationship began to bud again, after a long, cruel desolate winter. He gazed upon her with such utter adoration, hanging onto her every spoken word. He touched her with a gentleness, as if she were a gift to be cherished. Whenever they weren’t talking and sharing stories, it seemed they spent most of their time in bed making love until the wee hours of the morning, just as the sun began to rise. She still ached from the previous night’s exertions, the reminder of the glorious night causing a sheepish smile to tug at the corners of her mouth. Hawke took a large sip of water from her bedside table, trying to chase the last fragments of sleep away. She’d woken up in a panic several times to Anders’ blood curling screams. He’d always had terrible nightmares, but they seemed far worse than they ever were in Kirkwall. It was no wonder the poor man looked so worn out all the time. 

Eva threw on a long shirt, and padded her way to the kitchen. Anders put down two plates on the table, glancing at her standing in the doorway. “You’ve got impeccable timing.”

“And a great nose,” she smiled, sitting down in her spot.

“That too.” Anders grinned, taking a seat across from her. Despite the heavy bags under his eyes, there seemed to be a genuine happiness that manifested itself in Anders, one that Hawke could read loud and clear. 

“You’re in a rather cheerful mood,” Hawke said, before taking a bite of her scrambled eggs. They were spiced lightly, and tasted heavenly on her tongue. She never excelled in culinary endeavors. She felt more than grateful to be enjoying his cooking again. 

“Why wouldn’t I be? You were amazing last night.” He replied with a wink, shoveling a forkful into his mouth.

“Just last night? You wound me sir.” Hawke dramatically clutched her fist to her chest, as if she’d taken a blow with a piercing arrow.

“Still have a penchant for being over dramatic, I see.” Anders reached across the table, taking her hand in his and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve always been a fantasy come true, Hawke. And you know it.”

“Do I?” the mischievous mage smirked. “Perhaps I need some reminding.”

“Again? You are such a minx.” Anders laughed. Not a moment later, his eyes narrowed, and he buried his head in his hands, pressing against his temples. A loud groan came forth, as he doubled over in pain.

“Anders?” Hawke rushed over to his side, her hands rubbing his back. “Are you alright?”

He let out a ragged sigh, still pressing his fingers to his head. “Another migraine, love.”

“You’ve been having them nearly every day. Are you sure you’re well? Perhaps we should seek out a healer who is more skilled than I ... “

“No!” he startled her with the sudden change in his voice. Anders exhaled a deep breath, the air coming out shaky and uneven. A second later, he spoke with better clarity. “You won’t find one more experienced than I am around these parts. It’s … really nothing worth troubling yourself over, Hawke. I will be fine in a few minutes.”

Hawke wasn’t completely convinced, but she decided to let it go for the moment. “If you insist.”

Once the two of them finished their meal, Hawke cleared the table and washed the dishes while Anders lay in bed as he tried to get more sleep. Eva eventually came into the room, propping herself in a chair beside the bed, so she could watch over him. During his waking moments, Anders’ features remained inscrutable. But while he slept, Hawke could see the pain and torment etched into his face. He whimpered, his entire body shaking, beads of perspiration dripping from his temples. Hawke would gently lay a hand on him, soothing him with soft words. For a time, Anders would calm, slipping back into a peaceful sleep. But not long after, his nightmares would return, the process beginning anew. Eva’s heart sank deep into her stomach. There had to be something Anders kept hidden from her, she knew deep inside of her soul. If only she could break through the steel walls he spent years building, encasing himself in them as if a prisoner to his own mind. 

The afternoon sun radiated a beautiful orange glow throughout the room when Anders woke again. Hawke sat in the corner of the room, counting through the remainder of the coin she had left, after being terminated from the tavern.

“I do hate to see that frown,” Anders said, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“There’s not much left. I don’t know how much longer we can survive off of this. I may have to find some mercenary work again.” Hawke chewed on her lower lip. Times were hard, but she would do what she had to in order to survive.

“I didn’t realise that line of work existed in these parts of the Anderfels.”

“It doesn’t.” Hawke sighed, moving to sit beside Anders on the bed. “That’s why I stayed at the Rusty Sword for as long as I did. No one else around here would employ me. And staying here was my last hope at finding you. I just knew if I endured long enough … “ 

Anders’ placed a hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “We found each other, love. We don’t have to stay here any longer. We can go anywhere you wish. I will gladly spend the rest of my days at your side.”

Hawke tilted her head to peer into his soft honey eyes. Despite the red that surrounded them, they were still kind and spoke volumes of the love he felt for her. “I always did picture us living somewhere close to an ocean. We could spend our evenings by the beach, listening to the waves. Remember those times we strolled by the Wounded Coast? I know the scenery failed in comparison to that of a picture book, but your hand felt so warm around mind. And the smell of the sea as we watched the sunset behind the water … Maker. Those are some of my favorite memories.”

“How could I forget?” his voice rumbled, his eyes glassy as he took her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. “Let’s leave this place behind us Hawke. Find a quaint little cabin by the ocean. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted. I still have enough coin to last us a few months. We certainly won’t be able to afford the luxuries we once had in Hightown, but we can have something to call our own.”

“And that’s all I need.” Hawke lay her head against his chest, the warmth of Anders surrounding her. For so long, she woke each morning feeling numb. The promise of tomorrow hung in the air for the first time in many years.

**********

They decided that as soon as Hawke found a buyer for her home, the two of them would leave Kassel behind them and begin their new life together. Hawke’s cupboards were looking depleted, so for the first time since his arrival, Anders accompanied Hawke into town. As they walked side by side, Hawke could see the discomfort in the way Anders walked. He kept his hood drawn, only his nose and mouth visible to her. As she paid for a loaf of bread at a small stall, a few people sneered towards her. Anders’ grip on her arm stiffened.

“I’m quite certain they’re glaring because of the recent news that I’m a mage,” she whispered to him. The night her magic revealed itself at the tavern two weeks prior seemed like an entire lifetime ago already. She knew people would talk. Entertainment seemed hard to come by in the small town, and gossip spread like wildfire. 

“Still, I’d prefer to not linger about here any longer than necessary.”

Eva nodded, buying a couple more items before they made their way out of the market. 

The air felt crisp, causing their breath to come out in a fog. It wasn’t unbearably cold, and the sun would still be in the sky for another hour or so. Hawke and Anders walked hand in hand, taking their time to return home. They took a different route from when they came, following a rock-strewn road that wound about the town. Dust scattered with each step, most of the land barren save for a few patches of grass here or there, seemingly hard to believe that Kassel had ever been a farming community. Two horses galloped across a field, their playful whinnies echoing throughout the air, seeming to bounce off of the mountains that sat off in the distance. Hawke couldn’t help but smile. They looked so happy and carefree, not a care in the world other than their game of tag. 

“Do you think we’ll ever be like them?” she pondered aloud.

“Who, the horses?” Anders asked, amusement in the chuckle that followed.

“Look at them. They’re at peace with the world around them. They’re not worried about where their next meal is, or finding a roof over their head. Listen to the joyous sounds coming from them.” Hawke sighed. Anders pulled her in close to him, as they continued to walk down the path.

“Have you not been content the last few weeks?”

“Anders, being with you again has made me more than content. I’ve not been able to stop smiling.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly, enjoying the warmth of his skin against hers. “I just want us to be free of fear that the templars will find you. I’m terrified of losing you again. Maker … just the thought alone chills me to the bone.” Anders consumed her every waking thought for the last decade. Without him, she was afraid she’d fall.

“We will just have to be extra careful then, won’t we. No one has recognised you in our time apart?”

“Not in Kassel, no. I did have a few close calls back in Fereldan a few years ago. But no one knows my face in these parts. If anyone suspected that I’m the Champion, I certainly never heard about it.”

“Then we will have to find somewhere where the Champion of Kirkwall and her apostate lover would never be followed. That’s all, love.” His voice sounded so reassuring, so calm. It warmed Hawke inside, as if his words harnessed the power of the sun. She pulled back his hood, wanting to gaze upon his loving eyes. Hawke kissed him gently, her insides fluttering as if it were the very first time. 

They walked a few more steps, when suddenly Anders came to a hault. Hawke scanned his face, seeing a contemplative frown etched upon his features.

“Anders? What is it?” Eva looked off to the distance where his eyes seemed to be glued to. It dawned upon her that they had wandered all the way to his family home. She had visited the old farm several times since moving to Kassel, in hopes of finding some kind of clue that Anders had returned, but it always remained abandoned. Her stomach lurched in sympathy.

“I’ve not been to this place since the templars came for me. I was but a boy then.”

“If you want, we can leave.”

“No,” he shook his head at her suggestion. “This is a demon I need to face. No more running.” Hawke followed his footsteps as Anders began to make his way to the small farm house. 

He pushed the front door open, and lingered over the threshold, as if afraid stepping over it might burn him.

“It’s alright. We’re doing this together,” Hawke soothed him with her words. Anders let out a deep breath, and made his way inside. Every surface of the kitchen seemed to be covered with an inch of dust. The floorboards creaked with each movement the duo made. Anders paced through each room, disgruntled noises coming from him at each sight. At the last room he entered, he almost growled.

“None of my belongings remain. It’s as if they wanted to erase me from their memory, like I was some sort of … mistake.” Although his voice came out bitter, she could hear the years of hurt imbedded. Hawke and her mother might have had hard times, but deep down she knew that Leandra always loved her. She couldn’t begin to imagine how remarkably he suffered.

“Perhaps the reminder of you was too painful.”

“No,” Anders shook his head. “You should have seen the look on my father’s face when he found out that I was a mage. He stared at me, not as a concerned father, but as if I were a monster. Only a few hours passed before the templars came. My mother wept, but she never stood up to my father. She would have allowed whatever he demanded be done.”

Hawke placed an arm on his shoulder, feeling the way Anders shook with grief in his spot. She followed him as he exited the farmhouse, and wandered back to the family barn. He walked around to the side, his eyes glued to an unrepaired burn right through the wall. “My father was cursing at my mother for tripping over a bucket of milk. He stood right in this spot.” Anders turned his torso as if to demonstrate. “I grew furious at him. He always belittled my mother, screamed at us both. I became enraged. It felt as if I had no control over my body. Next thing I knew, the barn was on fire. I had cast my first spell without knowing it, and it was aimed for my father. I missed, unfortunately.” The blond mage sighed, his words weighing heavy. “Once he put the fire out, he left. When he returned, the templars were with him. That was the last I ever saw either of them again.”

“Anders, I’m so sorry.” Eva pulled him to her, cradling him against her neck. Slowly, he returned her embrace, his arms closing tightly around her.

“I don’t know what became of them. I … I’d like to see if perhaps they were buried at the burial grounds nearby.”

Anders took her hand in his, and lead her down another path. It took no longer than ten minutes for them to arrive at what appeared to be Kassel’s resting place for the deceased. Stone upon stone were strewn about the ground, names and dates carved into each. Anders began to follow the path of stones, quickly reading each before moving onto the next. Most of them were too weatherworn to read, but still he pressed on. Eva began to doubt he would find anything, until he finally came to a stop. His eyes went back and forth between three stones, until he forced himself away, a guttural grunt escaping his throat.

“I can’t believe it,” he gasped, barely above a whisper. Hawke peered down at the stones he’d been looking at. Three names were etched into them: Augustus Ackerman - his father, Letta Ackerman - his mother, and Erich Ackerman - _Anders’_ birth name.

“Maker … “ Hawke sighed, unbelieving to what lay before her.

“The date there is the day I was taken away. They wanted to believe I was dead! Being a mage somehow seemed more horrific a thought than their son being cursed with magic. They’d rather believe their only child lay dead in the ground.” His words came out shaky, as if he could barely get them out.

“It’s over now, Anders. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I wish I hadn’t come here, Hawke. This was a mistake.”

“Let’s get you home,” Hawke put an arm around his waist, turning them both around. They stopped dead in their tracks as they noticed a stranger just a few feet away, staring with wide eyes.

“You … your Augustus’ boy.” The man pointed directly at Anders with wrinkled hands that matched his seasoned face.

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” Hawke interjected, but the older man wouldn’t be ignored.

“Oh no. I’d know that face anywhere. I saw them take him away, I did! With my own two eyes.” He narrowed his gaze on Anders. His next words lost to Hawke. “Ich weiß, wer Sie sind. Ich weiß, was du getan hast. Ihr Kopf ist wert zu viel. Ich werde sagen.”

Eva stood statue still, her eyes darting between the two men. Whatever the stranger said made Anders’ grip on her hand turn as cold as ice. 

“Hawke,” he barely whispered. “We have to go. Now.”

Before she could properly respond, Anders yanked her by the arm, taking off towards home as fast as his feet could carry him. Eva’s thoughts became a storm in her mind, violent and destructive. She’d never seen Anders so frantic, and it began to worry her. Nearly halfway to her home, Anders abruptly stopped. He bent over, coughing and wheezing, letting out a hoarse cry as his hands went to his head again. Another migraine, Hawke guessed.

“What did he say? Anders, you have to tell me!”

Anders let his breath catch up to him for several moments, before standing straight. “I’m going to give you every last sovereign I have, Eva. Then I want you to run. Get as far away from here, from me as you possibly can.”

“Are you insane?” She barked at him. “To the void with that! I’m not going to leave you.”

“He knows who I am, Hawke. He’s going to tell everyone. I can’t stay here, and soon they’ll be after you too. I won’t put you in danger!”

Eva’s heart began to gallop in her chest, pounding against her so hard it hurt to breath. She turned her glance to the direction they came. “It’s not too late. I will find him and stop him.”

“And do what exactly? Kill him?”

“If I have to.” The words came out harsh, even if they held little truth behind them.

“Listen to yourself, Hawke. You’re talking about slaying an innocent. That’s not you. I won’t have more innocent blood shed because of my hands.”

“Then we leave, now.”

“I’ll only slow you down. You … you need to go on without me, love.”

“What do you mean? Anders?!” Hawke’s world stopped when Anders began to cough again, this time streaks of blood coating his hand.

“Maker’s breath … Anders, you’re bleeding! Let me look at you.” Hawke reached out to touch him, but Anders recoiled from her. He pressed down on his temples again, a sharp cry emitting from his throat. 

“Eva … I’m so sorry my love.” He gasped, quivering and pale. Hawke’s mind ran rampant, as all the clues began to fall into place. His sudden appearance, his nightmares, the coughing fits and migraines. Deep down, perhaps a part of her already knew, but the truth was an enemy she feared far greater than any man or monster from her past.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

Slowly, his eyes fell on hers. Please, don’t say it, she internally begged.

“It’s the taint. It’s gotten worse the last year or so. I don’t know how much time I have left.”

“No!” Eva sobbed, a sharp lump in her throat beginning to form. 

“I’m so sorry love.”

“Why would you keep this from me? Why?”

“I … I don’t know. I’ve wanted to tell you, but each day you seemed so happy. I kept praying, just one more day. I didn’t want to hurt you again.” He came closer, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Now you understand why you have to leave without me. I’m not going to make it much longer as it is. You need to go, my love. Please.”

The truth stung like acid. But the thought of leaving Anders to die at cruel, unforgiving hands … They would torture him, beat him, humiliate him, then hang him up in front of the world to witness. No. Nothing hurt more than that thought.

“Wherever you go, I follow. You stay, I stay. You came back for me, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Anders let out a deep breath, taking her face between his hands. “Then we better make haste.”

Hawke swallowed down the bitter taste in her mouth as they headed back home. Theirs was a whirlwind romance that spun out of control. There would be time to ask more questions later. Hawke and Anders left just as the sun had set, gathering only what they could carry in a sack. Before word had reached Kassel of the wanted apostate and his champion lover, they were already on a ship, leaving Kassel and its unforgiving people behind.   
**********

_“I know that I can’t have it all. But without you I’m afraid I’ll fall. I know I’m playing with your heart, and I could treat you better but I’m not that smart.” - I’m a ruin, by Marina and the Diamonds._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not German, so I used Google translate. I apologize if It’s totally botched: Ich weiß, wer Sie sind. Ich weiß, was du getan hast. Ihr Kopf ist wert zu viel. Ich werde sagen. Translation: I know who you are. I know what you did. Your head is worth too much. I'm going to tell.


	6. I am only one

Four weeks. Four weeks of the dreaded sea whipping their ship about like a ragdoll, the smell of vomit and human waste putrid in the air. Hawke stayed close to Anders’ side the entire time. The blond mage had a terribly hard time of the entire ordeal. The taint plagued him as it was, but the to and fro rocking of the ship made Anders violently ill. His skin looked sallow, and his eyes bloodshot. Hawke feared that they wouldn’t survive. But nearly a month later, they arrived in a docking bay north of Brynnlaw, Antiva. It was the only ship available on such short notice, and the duo were desperate to leave the Anderfels behind them. Antiva would have to make do. Hawke had spent the better of six months in Antiva City for a time, years ago when she travelled around. The people of Antiva were spirited, and the capital city had many business ventures. Hawke longed for a quieter life, but for now she accepted the cards she’d been dealt with. 

When they clamoured onto the deck, the fresh air hit her lungs. She breathed deeply, taking in as much as the crisp air as her body allowed her. The sun hung bright above them, and the salt spray of the waves felt heavenly. Weeks of grime clung to her body, and her legs desperately needed a stretch. As the ship docked into the port, relief flooded her veins. Land, at last!

By the time they found an inn to accommodate them, the moon hung high in the sky. Anders leaned against Hawke as they walked to their room, the mage’s exhaustion deeply setting into his muscles. He coughed harshly into his hand, wheezing at the end of it. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes, love. I just need some rest.”

When they entered the dark quarters, Hawke led Anders over to a single bed that occupied the corner of the room. As he lay across the sheets, she lit a nearby candle sitting on a small end desk. Anders shivered, and Hawke felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

“You’re still running a fever. Let’s get you under the covers.” Hawke unlaced Anders’ boots as he pulled off his coat. She lifted the coverlet, and Anders slipped inside. The mage closed his eyes, shaking lightly with a chill. His fever had gone down since it first developed several days before, but still she worried. She knew nothing of the taint. Would a simple fever kill him? How much time did Anders have left? These thoughts plagued her mind, as surely as the taint plagued Anders’ now frail body.

Slowly but surely, Anders fell asleep. Hawke watched him, her mind a thousand miles away. She’d been so busy caring for him during their voyage, she hadn’t the time to process the situation in its entirety. Now, she was left alone with her thoughts. Thoughts that chilled her to the bone. 

Her eyes wandered to an opposite door that lead to outside. Hawke let herself out quietly, trying her best not to disturb Anders from his much needed rest. It clicked quietly behind her. The Antivan air blew through her hair, the smell of sea salt and smoke from a distant fire filling her nose. She sat on a bench that lay just against the wall, gazing out at the stars, silver flecks painted across the midnight canvas of the sky above. In another time, her and Anders would have enjoyed the beauty of the night together, hand in hand, hopeful for what their future had in store for them. 

But the future that lay before them now only held promise of despair and death. Agony and torment. Had she really spent so many years searching for him, only to lose him all over again? The more she contemplated everything, the angrier she became. He hid his illness from her. Just as he hid his plans about the chantry. Rage festered inside of her, burning her blood like poison in her veins. He had abandoned her then, and he would abandon her again. For years, she blamed herself for losing him, but it was Anders who forced her hand in making that decision. 

Angry tears welled at the corner of her eyes. For as much as she felt enraged, fear lingered just as strongly. She loved him, Maker did she love him. She wanted to hate him, wished she could just walk away and forget he ever existed. But Anders drew her to him as if some magnetic force she couldn’t resist. The day she walked in on him healing that sick child in his clinic had sealed her fate. She would forever love this man, no matter his flaws.

Hawke drew her knees up to her body, wrapping her arms around herself. She felt so small and utterly alone, as if the dark sky above her threatened to swallow her into the void. She thought of Anders, laying in the next room, weak and ill. Had she even a reason to stay angry with him? He had no control over the taint in his blood. Perhaps he wanted to spare her the pain of knowing. She’d been completely and wholly joyful before she knew of his sickness. Eva let out a shuddering breath. So many emotions plagued her mind at once. But one thing remained certain.

She was suffering. 

The door quietly opened behind her, and Eva turned to see Anders stepping outside.

“What are you doing out here?”

“You should get back to bed, Anders.”

Anders gazed at her inscrutably. “You look as if the weight is resting on your shoulders. I’ve seen that look before. You’re not thinking of leaving me, are you?” His voice came out vulnerable and childlike.

“Would you hate me if I said I've been contemplating it?”

The mage let out a heavy breath, and sat in the empty spot beside her. “Not at all. Eva, if this is too much for you … “

“Don’t. Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?” 

“Force me to make a decision that I’ll live to regret for the rest of my life!” 

Silence hung in the air for several long moments. Eva’s eyes stung with unshed tears. She exhaled, trying to hold herself together.

“I wish you’d told me from the start. Not that it would hurt any less … ” She turned to her side to face him. “You’re … dying?” The question had tormented her for weeks. 

Anders nodded slowly, guilt clear in his glazed eyes.

A sob released itself from the confinements of her throat. “Well … “ she forced a laugh, which in the end sounded like tears. “At least I know the truth now.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Anders whispered, pulling her against him. Hawke didn’t resist, instead buried her head into his chest, the tears flowing freely. She sobbed against him, and he held her close.

“I don’t want you to die,” she whispered after a few minutes, her cheeks red and eyes swollen.

“We all die eventually, love. And I will die a happy man, knowing that I had the pleasure of loving the most wonderful woman in all of Thedas.”

Hawke shivered, her fingers tight in his shirt. Horrid visions swirled through her mind as she imagined what would have happened if they never found one another. He would have died all alone, no one there to comfort him in his final moments. Fresh tears formed, the thought more than she could handle. Maybe this had been why the Maker put him in her path once again. They may not have much time left, but Eva wanted to be there for Anders, to make his final days ones of joy. She could deal with her pain later.

“We’ll face this together. As hard as it may be … I’m here for you, Anders.” Hawke wiped her eyes with her long sleeves, trying to dry away the evidence of her tears. “Warden’s certainly get the shite end of the stick, don’t they?” she attempted to joke, but the words came out bitter.

“Tradition would have me in the Deep Roads now, slaying darkspawn until I met my end.”

“Is this something you’re going to eventually pursue?”

Anders shook his head solemnly. “I only lived as a Warden a short time. I don’t think I have the right to die a heroic death. Besides, that would mean having to leave you sooner. And I couldn’t bear it.” He reached out for her hand, and Eva accepted it, twining her slender fingers between his. His hands were calloused, even now, reminding her of their time together fighting evils in Kirkwall. 

“We should find a house along the beach, just as we planned. We could spend rest of our days here, Anders. Listening to the waves crash against the shore, basking in the sun.”

“The rest of _my_ days, Hawke. You still have a long life ahead of you.”

Hawke sighed deeply. “Perhaps. I’d rather not think of that now. The important thing is that right now, you are alive, and we are together. Isn’t that enough?”

“That’s all a man could ever hope for.” 

Brushing her lips across his, Hawke kissed him with every fiber of her being. The fear and pain of losing him came forth in a scorching kiss. They came away, panting at the end of it, fingers wound tightly in each others hair. No more words needed to be spoken, just one look into the others eyes and they knew how afraid they both felt.

They sat there on the porch, enjoying the beauty of the night together, hand in hand until the golden twilight of dawn banished the last of the stars. They may not have been hopeful for what their future had in store for them, but they had each other, and that was all that mattered. 

******

_“I'm on my own here, and no one's left to be the hero of this fairy tale gone wrong. As night will fall, my heart will die alone. Ever after never came, and I'm still waiting for my heart to beat again. And all the dreams I've laid to rest, are ghosts that keep me after all that I've become. I am only one.” I am only one, by We are the Fallen._


	7. Sing me to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are only 2 chapters left. A warning: things are about to get dark. This was a really emotionally draining chapter to write, so I apologize for the long delay.

In the weeks that followed, Hawke and Anders found a house just off the coast of Brynnlaw. A small, mostly broken down cabin that direly needed repairs. The price of the modest home would have bought them a nice house in Kirkwall. But it seemed everything decent in the Antivan city cost a lifetime in savings. So, they used the coin they had on the tiny, one bedroom abode.

Three weeks living in Brynnlaw, and the pair spent most their evenings fixing up their new home, turning it from an almost run down shack, into a humble cabin. The holes in the walls were repaired, and the floors became smoothed and crack free. Callouses covered Hawke’s hands, unused to the hard labour from her years in Kassel, but looking at their home, she felt nothing but accomplishment in what the two of them had managed in such a short time.

Hawke found work in town selling potions that her and Anders would craft the evening before. Being a healer for many years left Anders with skill, and while she didn’t know nearly as many recipes as he, there were a handful of ones she perfected over the years. Some evenings she returned home with barely anything to show for their work, and on others, she made enough coin to feed them for a week.

One night, she swung open the front door to greet Anders with a smile. He looked up from the table, elfroot scattered across as he worked on a tonic.

“What’s all this?” he waved to the colourful flowers in her hair, and beads wound around her neck.

“Antivan’s really go all out for their Satinalia celebrations.”

“Ah yes, that started today did it?”

“Mhmm,” Hawke stood behind him, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his chest and place a kiss on his neck. “And it will last a week.”

“A week? What happened to the tradition of being nice to one's fellow man for an evening, than returning to plotting against him in private the next day?” he smirked.

“Antiva takes their celebrations very seriously.” Hawke took a seat beside him. “Every day there’s going to be a festival in the market, which means more coin for us. And at night, a grand celebration in the streets.”

“What exactly do these festivities involve, anyways?”

“A parade through the streets, bards singing songs, the crowning of the town fool,” she grinned. When she’d been a girl, Satinalia day had been something she looked forward to all year. 

“Lothering always had a wonderful celebration. Father would take us out for the day. We would dance until our feet hurt. He always let us stay out as late as we wanted, which was always until little Bethany could no longer keep her eyes open.” A smile spread across her face. “It doesn’t hurt as much to think about them anymore, but I do miss them.”

Anders ran a hand gently across her cheek. His fingers, while rough, still brought her comfort. Fingers that healed her wounds, soothed her aches, sated her desires. “We can make new memories together. Is there anything special happening tonight?”

Hawke smiled. “Yes.”

**********

A cheerful crowd stood along the busy street, as performers bustled about. Lithe dancers with raven shaded hair swung their hips to the sound of music, much of their tawny skin exposed. They waved about the crowd gifting flowers to women and children and kissing the cheeks of blushing men. A burly man stood blindfolded, juggling wooden planks that had been set on fire. The crowd watched in awe, mouths agape. One wrong movement and he would go up in flames. But the man never faltered, instead adding more planks. Hoots and hollers filled the air when he finished his act, removing his blindfold to give a bow, and show a toothless grin. 

Hawke chuckled at the display, the crowd’s enthusiasm contagious. Anders stood directly behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her middle, his chin resting against her shoulder. She relaxed in his arms, the warmth radiating from her love comforting. She felt him tense up a moment, turning his head to cough. He wheezed and his chest vibrated aggressively against her back. Hawke turned to face him as she became concerned.

“Let’s get you home,” she tugged on his arm.

“No,” he refused in between coughing. “I will not ruin this night for you.”

“But Anders … “ worry gripped Hawke’s insides. His symptoms worsened each day, and she did not want to push him. “You should be in bed resting.”

“No Eva,” he wheezed quietly, pulling her against him so that her back rest flush against his chest once more. “Tonight is about you.” Hawke gave up her struggle, and blankly stared ahead, no longer watching to dancers, her mind too boggled with fear for the man she loved. 

**********

Hawke spent the next day in the market selling the potions she crafted late the evening prior when they returned home from the celebration. By the time they returned, Anders could barely contain his wheezing. Blood dribbled out the corners of his lips. He’d been able to sleep after she gave him a strong health potion, but she knew it was no cure. Most of the night he tossed about, coughing viciously when awake. The few times he managed to fall asleep, he would awaken them both with blood curling screams, his nightmares not allowing him the slightest respite. Eva’s heart felt heavy. Her time with Anders would run out, and soon.

The end of the day came, and while crowds gathered once more for another celebration, Eva gathered her things and headed for home. Her feet moved fast, swifter each second until she nearly ran. What if Anders had another coughing fit? What if he choked on his own blood this time and couldn’t breathe? She should have stayed with him. If she found him dead in the house they built together, she would never forgive herself.

The door swayed open, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him sitting at the wooden table, crafting another potion. “Oh, thank the Maker,” she gasped, her lungs nearly out of air.

“Is something wrong?” the blond mage asked behind wisps of hair and bloodshot eyes. He somehow looked even more exhausted than when she left that morning.

“It’s nothing sweetheart.” She said as she neared. Hawke sat next to him, taking his hand in hers and giving it a soft kiss. Her eyes wandered to the herbs gathered on the table. Deathroot, Blood Lotus, and Andraste’s Grace. She recognised the combination as a common poison used by the Antivan Crows. The Grace was used to cover up the taste of the other ingredients. Assassin’s used it to poison the food of an unsuspecting target.

“Did we take on a contract with the Crow’s?” Hawke joked. The forlorn look upon Anders’ face chilled her to the bone.

“It’s not for the Crows.” He answered ruefully. “It’s for me.”

The blood within her veins ran cold, his words more powerful and deadly than any enemy she had ever struck down. “What do you mean it’s for you?”

“Hawke … “

“What were you going to do with that potion, Anders? Don’t you think this is something you should have brought up with me?” She couldn’t help the anger beginning to rise in her voice.

“It’s something I meant to discuss with you later tonight. The Calling within me … I am in agony, Eva. It’s growing stronger each and every day. I can’t think without the sound of screeching tearing through in my head. Most days I can barely breathe … “ Anders gasped heavily, clearly having trouble speaking.

“Yesterday you said you wanted to make new memories together! Why would you say such a thing if you’re just ready to give up so fast? Why?” Her voice quivered, uneven and shaky like a wave crashing against the shore.

“Was it so wrong of me to want to give you one last memory of us being happy together? One night where my illness wasn’t the focus?” Anders sighed, his hand reaching for her shoulder. “Eva … love. This isn’t what I would have planned for us. I wish I could give you one hundred more years. But I’m dying. You’ve known that for some time now.”

“Maybe we can find a cure. There has to be a way … “

“But there’s not. Becoming a Warden is a death sentence. I became one long ago to escape death’s door at that moment, but it has caught up with me now. There is no way around it. That is why the Warden’s go into the Deep Roads. To die an honorable death. And while I may not deserve a hero's death, I want to die with what dignity I have left.” His voice wavered, penitent and cracked. “I am so sorry love. I don’t want to hurt you, but Maker I can’t take it any more.” 

His words trembled as tears stained his sallow cheeks. She wanted to fight for him, to convince him that suicide wasn’t the answer! But Anders had no fight left in him. They both knew it, as much as the truth hurt. Hawke sobbed, holding his cheeks between her hands.

“Shh, darling. It’s … it’s alright.” She nearly choked on the words, her own tears blurring her vision. Hawke held him to her breast, allowing him to cry into her. His wet tears soaked her shirt, as hers fell into Anders’ hair. “I won’t force you to stay if it pains you so.” 

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he whimpered into her neck. The lump in Eva’s throat swelled even more. She pulled away and forced a small laugh.

“You’re worried about little old me? I’ll … I’ll be fine Anders. You know me.”

“What will you do?”

Hawke shivered, the thought of being without him excruciating. “I don’t know, my love.”

“We built this house together, made it a home. I wanted to build it for you. These walls will keep you safe and protected, even after I am gone.” He clung onto the collar of her shirt, their foreheads pressed tenderly together. “I will always be with you.”

Hawke sobbed, more tears falling. “I love you so much.”

“I know sweetheart. You have made all the wrongs in my life worth every ounce of pain. I wish … “ he coughed, holding his sleeve up to his face. “I wish we had more time.” Red spots of blood formed on his sleeve as he pulled it away from his mouth.

“Can you wait until tomorrow? I need to have another night with you. To savour what it feels like to be in your arms.” Eva sniffled. Anders pulled her closer, and she rest her head on his shoulder. She could feel his heart beat faintly in his chest. It would be one of the last times she felt his pulse beneath her touch. That thought lead to more tears being shed.

“Of course my love. I would not deny you of that.”

That night, Eva didn’t get an ounce of sleep. She spent hours simply laying in his arms, Anders’ shallow breaths against her skin, dreading what the dawn would bring.   
**********

_‘Sing me to sleep, and then leave me alone. Don’t try to wake me in the morning, because I will be gone. Don’t feel bad for me, I want you to know deep in my heart, I will feel so glad to go.’ - Asleep - Emily Browning._


	8. Fade to black

Anders slowly opened his eyes, awakening to the sight of Eva staring down at him. She smiled sadly, running a hand down his stubbled cheek. “Hello, my love,” she greeted him as optimistic as she could manage despite the agony twisting in her gut. His eyes smiled back, but gone were the color of warm amber and whiskey. His eyes glossed over, red rimmed and nearly completely consumed with black.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” he answered back weakly.

“Afternoon,” she responded, nodding her head towards the window where beams of sunlight entered the room.

“Have you been up long?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” Hawke ran her hand down his bare chest. His skin felt cold and clammy, not unlike her own. But her temperature was from the grief, and his an incurable sickness that refused to leave.

“Did you … was there anything you wanted to do today before we … get it over with?” Anders asked meekly.

“I thought maybe we could enjoy a meal together. Perhaps go for a walk as the sun sets. And then we can come back home and I’ll … I’ll be here for you. I’ll hold your hand as you take your potion. As you leave this world and your pain behind.” Her throat ached from the lump that had not left since the night before, but she managed to force the words without any tears. Perhaps she shed all that was left inside of her.

“Love,” he sat forward, resting his head on her shoulder. “I know you’re afraid. But I’m not. I’ve lived far longer than I ever thought I would. I fell in love with the most wonderful woman, who just so happened to be a mage as well. You always shared my burden, no matter the cost. Don’t you see that you’ve given me so much to be thankful for? I can die a happy man. And you,” he turned to look her straight in the eyes. “You are strong. Life will go on without me. Even if it hurts for a little while. Just … promise me you won’t be sad for too long. I have hurt you enough in life. Don’t let my death consume you. Please.”

Hawke leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. “I will do my very best.”

“There’s my girl,” he said, smiling brilliantly. His voice warmed her inside. And even though she knew she would never hear him say she was  _ his _ girl again, just hearing it in that moment made her radiate with warmth.

“Let’s fix you something to eat.”

* * *

Eva roasted a ham the way he always liked it, true to the Anderfels style. He’d confided in her when they were living in Kirkwall how he had memories of waking to the scent of ham in the morning. He retained very little memories of his life with his parents, but whenever he spoke about his mother, it usually had something to do with her preparing meals for the family. Hawke tried her best to replicate an authentic Anderfels ham on their three year anniversary. Anders’ excitement over the meal then had been that of a small child opening presents on their names day. It was all he could talk about for days.

But now, he sat with a full plate in front of him, scraping his fork without purpose across it.

“Not hungry?”

Anders peered up at her from his seat. “I’m so sorry. You went through all this trouble … “

“It was nothing. I thought it would be nice to relive a fond memory together. But if you aren’t hungry, there’s nothing to be done about it.” She took his hand in hers, squeezing it gently, his skin frozen, like winter's ice solidifying a pond. Cold and stiff, as if he already passed from this life into the next. She took her other hand, and rubbed it over his own. “You’re so cold.”

“My temperature is the least of the agony. The nightmares are some of the worst I’ve ever had. And my head is pounded constantly. I … I can hear voices. Have for over a year. Only now, I cannot drown them out like I used to. What was once a dull drum now screams and tears at my every conscious thought. I would not wish this misery on my worse enemy.”

His words sank in, and Hawke held onto his hand even tighter. She remembered when his friend Karl begged Anders to put him out of his misery. And Aveline’s first husband Wesley. She recalled the grief that consumed her friend for years after ending his life, but Aveline always remained adamant that it had been the right choice. The quick death she gave him had been a mercy compared to the agony that coursed through his veins. What Anders was asking of her was not so different. Finally, she understood and accepted that what they would be doing that night would be a kindness, no matter how much it would hurt her to say goodbye. At least this time, she would have that chance.

“You won’t be in pain for much longer, my love. I will make sure of it.”

* * *

  
  


Waves crashed against the shore as Hawke and Anders walked barefoot along the sand. The warm air caressed her skin, sea salt trickling across her arms from the sea that spread out before them. 

“Let’s stop here for a moment,” Anders announced, staring out at the water before them. The sun begun to set, leaving a brilliant hue of pinks and golds etched out before them. Hawke stood there, with Anders at her back. His arms wrapped around her as he rest his stubbled chin on her shoulder.

“I will always remember this moment,” she said solemnly. So many nights, Anders would sit with her on her balcony, as the two of them watched the sun set from her Kirkwall estate. While she always loved those moments, she never truly appreciated the beauty of nature until now.

“If I were a more poetic man, I would write you songs of how this very sunset pales in comparison to your beauty.”

Hawke couldn’t help but chuckle. “You always were a big ole softy. Which is one of the many reasons why I fell in love with you.”

“When I lived in the circle, I would compliment a pretty girl for my own selfish wants and desires. But with you, it was never like that. You have no idea just how precious a gift you are. You were always the one bright light in my world. Even when I’m consumed with darkness, you somehow find a way to lead me back into the light. You saved an entire city Hawke, and you also saved me.”

“Not poetic, huh?” She tried to laugh again, but the lump in her throat returned, and unshed tears burned her eyes.

“What can I say? You inspire me.”

She turned around, and saw that his eyes were glossy as well. “These aren’t tears of sadness, love. I’m just so very happy to have you with me right now. That I will live my final moments with the woman I love. Had I not found you again … I would have perished alone and miserable. But now I have found peace.”

Her lips pressed against his, and her fingers wound into his shirt, desperate to have him close. Her body ached and yearned, and although she knew there would be no final lovemaking in his state, she couldn’t hold back from kissing him as if she wanted to seduce him. She knew that they would never be joined as one again. Her eyes closed, cherishing the press of his mouth on hers, knowing that tonight he was saying goodbye. She gasped against him, pulling away only when he began to cough. She stroked his back tenderly, each gasp of air pulling at her heart. When his coughing subsided, she wiped the trickles of blood away with her sleeve.

“Let’s go home,” Hawke replied sadly. She turned on her heel, and felt her blood run cold at the sight of three men standing directly behind them. Instantly, she recognised Olaf, the patron from the bar at Kassel that caused her so much trouble. But what in the Maker’s name had he been doing all the way out here?

“Look at what we have here,” Olaf spoke, his voice heavy with the Anderfels accent. “Took me a damn long time to find you, girl.”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice seethed with venom, already knowing that his intentions were foul.

“You were in such a rush to leave Kassel, you forgot to say goodbye.”

“Shut up and tell me the truth.”

“Oh, this bitch has a mouth on her, doesn’t she?” One of the men laughed beside Olaf.

“You caused quite the stir you know,” the grey haired man said, stepping closer. “When word spread that the terrorist of Kirkwall had been seen in our little town, your description came up too. Not at all surprising, you being a filthy mage and all.” He sneered, his eyes glimmering with something sinister. “Us town folk searched high and low before realising you two lovebirds skipped town. I checked in with the harbour, and only one ship had left port in days. Didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. I put what coin I had on passage to the next ship. Hired me these two skilled uh … what do you fellas call yourselves again?”

“Crows.” One of the men beside him spoke. “Antivan Crows.”

“Ah yes, that’s the name.”

“What is it that you want?” Anders wheezed from beside Hawke. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“Your head. There’s quite a bounty on it.”

“Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?” Hawke spat.

“The Champion of Kirkwall? Oh, I figured it out love. Was easy to put it together when lover boy here showed his face. Had I known before, I would have handed you in to the authorities long ago.” Olaf snickered, pulling out a dagger. “Seems like your mage there is close to his death bed. And I doubt a little hündin like you will be a match for the three of us.”

“Leave Hawke out of this. I will gladly hand myself over to you.”

“To the void with that!” Eva spat out. She knew Anders’ time neared it’s end, but these men would still torture him nonetheless. She would never allow that to happen. She looked around at the men before her, and let out a curt laugh. “You do realize I’ve fought way harsher enemies than you pathetic lot? High dragons, ogres,  _ the Arishok _ .”

“Yes lovie, but you were young then,” Olaf smirked, and the men next to him laughed.

“That won’t stop me from tearing you apart,” she hissed, summoning mana at her fingertips. Her hands glowed blue, emanating with power.

“Look out boys, this one's fiesty,” one of the Crows called out, as they unsheathed their daggers.

“Anders, stay back,” Hawke growled under her breath, standing in front of him. Before she could even finish the words, one of the Crows darted forward. The mana tingling at her fingertips leashed out, coating the air in front of them with ice. It stopped him in his tracks, covering him with prickly sharp shards. He unleashed a sharp cry, staggering back. Hawke’s mana still raged within her, her adrenaline edging it forwards. The second assassin dove around the ice, coming at her from the side. Hawke stopped his blow with her staff, turning her body swiftly, her weapon cracking loudly with the dagger. Hand to hand was not her strong suit, and she lost her footing in the sand for a second. He came at her quickly then, about to take a blow. Lightning and smoke permeated the air, as a bolt shot through the man. He cried out, falling to the sand. Anders let out a grunt, striking him again. Blood trickled from the mage’s nose, as he overexerted his sickly form to protect the woman he loved.

“As long as I still breathe, I will not let them hurt you!” He yelled out, coming to stand beside her. They looked at one another, the briefest of seconds, before turning their attentions back to the attackers. They began to twist and turn their bodies in sync, waving their staffs about. It was a dance they’d perfected many years ago, their movements completely synchronized, moving together much as lovers did in passions embrace. Mana filled the air like fog, a distinct smell of smoke filling the air as Anders let forth a fireball. One of the Crows’ jacket lit up, the man shrieking with pain. Hawke laughed, a freeing sound. As morbid as it may have been, a sense of joy filled her. It’d been a damned long time since they fought side by side, and those were some of her best memories with Anders. Hawke cast another spell. She shot the same Crow with a force of energy, hot and scorching. The man tried to dive out of the way, but after being burned his reflexes slowed. He hit the ground, lifeless before he even reached it.

Hawke gazed around her, quickly making an assessment. Olaf and one Crow remained. Olaf was not skilled warrior. It was the Crow that had her worried. Anders sent a spell of paralysis towards the Crow, freezing him in place. A perfect opportunity to get Olaf out of the way. She stalked towards him, the man sneering at her. He swiped his dagger across her forearm, digging into her flesh. She cried out, but soon felt the tingling of Anders’ healing caressing her. Taking her staff, she swiped it swiftly across his hand, knocking the dagger onto the sand. Panic filled Olaf’s eyes, and Hawke cackled.

“P… please,” he stuttered, backing away.”

“You couldn’t have let us be, could you?”

“I won’t tell anyone else where you are, I promise!”

“It’s too late for promises now.” Hawke firmed her grip on her staff, narrowing her eyes on the target. She shifted her hips, her staff raising up high, before bringing it down in one swift movement. It cracked against Olaf’s head, knocking him right to the ground.

“Bastard,” Hawke breathed out.

“Eva!” The sound of her name made her blood run cold. She turned on her heel, seeing the last Crow standing above Anders who’d been knocked to the ground. His fingers gripped the handle of his blade, lifting it above his head. Her heart thundered in her chest, as she let forth a paralysis spell. It engulfed the Crow, freezing him in place, giving her enough time to run, her feet slipping in the sand. With her staff, she knocked the weapon to the ground, casting one more spell. The Crow lit up with lightning, harsh flicks of electric power licking across his skin, burning his flesh to a crisp. The man fell, blood spilling from his mouth. With her staff gripped tight, Hawke struck him again and again, screaming nonsensical words, until his blood stained the sand below.

“Eva, Eva, he’s dead.” Anders spoke softly from behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder to bring her back from the heat of the moment. She placed her staff back in its sling, and wrapped her arms around Anders. She wasn’t ready to let him go. Seeing that Crow almost deliver a fatal blow brought her back to the reality of what losing him would mean. She loved Anders with all of her heart. Losing him now would surely kill her.

“Anders love,” she sobbed, burying her face in the crook of his neck, damp with over excursion. Among the mana filled air, she could still smell the spice of sandalwood clinging to his skin. She closed her eyes, pretending for just a moment they were back in Kirkwall, the world at their fingertips. It was a trying time in their lives, and at moments, even devastating. But she would give anything to go back to the way things were. When they were happy. When Anders wasn’t sick.

His hands enveloped her body, holding her close. She’d always felt safe and protected in the arms that healed so many. Arms that cradled her as she wept at the loss of her mother, that soothed her aches and pains with the simplest of touches. She dared not let go, wanting to cling on to the moment, and him, forever.

A gurgled gasp snapped her out of her thoughts. She peered up into his eyes, pain embedded in his irises.

“Eva,” he gasped, and then she heard the sharp shink of a blade withdrawing from his flesh. Anders hunched forward, and that’s when Hawke saw Olaf standing behind him, his dagger coated in blood.  _ Anders’ blood. _

“What have you done?!”

“What I came here to do, you mage bitch.” He snarled, blood trickling down his head from where she’d delivered a blow earlier. Hawke felt the remaining of her mana boiling like anger within her blood. A sharp cry escaped her lungs as she pushed every bit of energy forward in the form of a fire spell, unleashing it upon Olaf. He screamed out, the fire consuming every inch of his flesh. It sizzled and scorched, the smell of burning flesh filling the air around them. He fell to the ground, seconds later nothing more than ash remaining.

Hawke turned her attention to Anders, who hunched over in pain.

“Let me see,” Eva gasped, trying to remain calm. She examined his back, seeing a large gash torn into his coat, covered in blood. It spurt out in quick torrents. She examined him quickly, noting that the gash was incredibly deep, the blade likely hit an organ. Hawke had never been a skilled healer, and knew only a little. She desperately tried to summon a healing spell, but her mana was depleted.

“We need to get you home,” she said, remembering that there were healing herbs there. With the strength she had left, she hoisted him up, letting his weight rest on her shoulder as the two of them stumbled towards to direction of their hut. Even though it remained just off in the distance, every step seemed to drag on forever. Anders could barely stand, let alone walk. She held onto him tightly, forcing him to move onwards.

When they arrived, she swung the front door open. Anders gasped in sharp bursts. They crashed into a nearby table, knocking a plate of uneaten ham to the ground. She managed to get him to the bedroom and on the bed, rolling him to his side. Blood drenched the entire lower half of his coat, no signs of it stopping. She applied pressure to the wound, and searched around desperately for something to keep the pressure there while she grabbed the healing herbs.

“Eve… Eva,” Anders gasped, his hand reaching out for hers. “Stop love. Stop.” His words came out quiet and weak. “I don’t have… time.”

“No,” she whimpered, tears rolling down her face. Anders reached up, and weakly caressed her cheek.

“We talked … about this. It’s what I wanted.”

“I don’t want to go on in a world you aren’t a part of,” she cried, forlorn and frightened.

“I will always be with you, so long as you remember me,” he whispered, his eyes meeting hers.

“Always,” she answered, leaning down to kiss him once last time. His lips barely brushed against hers, cold and still. She sobbed, afraid to pull away, knowing what would face her when she did. Her fingers clutched into the collar of his shirt, eyes remaining closed even as she parted from him. The only sound that filled the room was her ragged breathing. For several long moments, she sat in silence, keeping her eyes tightly shut. If she closed her eyes, it wasn’t real. Tears slipped through shut lids, drenching her burning cheeks. Hawke knew she had to face to music. Slowly, her wet lashes parted, and she stared down at the man she loved.

His eyes remained opened, no sign of life remaining, with blood pooling around his waist. Yet amidst his lifeless bloodied form, he somehow looked at peace. No worry crinkled around his eyes, nor any sign of pain lingered. Eva took her fingers, closing his eyelids with them. A soft hand rest upon stubbled cheek, caressing his skin as she had so many times before. The only man she had ever loved no longer breathed. An empty vessel, nothing more.

“Anders,” she sobbed, tears stinging her cheeks raw. “Don’t leave me here alone again.” For too long, she’d been insufferably lonely, having no one to aid her in her search for the man she loved. When they came to Brynnlaw, Anders built this house for her to live her days in after he departed this world. It was what he intended, to help ease her suffering.. But a life without him? She couldn’t fathom it.

Hawke curled up beside him, resting her head in the crook of his neck as she wailed. Nothing had ever hurt so unbearably as losing him. Not the loss of her home in Kirkwall. Not saying goodbye to her friends. Not even the death of her mother. Anders had always been the one and only person Eva felt she could simply be herself with. She was thousands of miles away from anyone who she ever cared for. She’d abandoned them long ago in search for the man she once turned away. And now he was gone, leaving only despair in his absence.

Eva opened her watery eyes. It took some time for them to focus, blurry from countless tears that flooded her sight. She peered around the room, everything a foggy mess, until one object came into focus on the nearby nightstand. The bottle of poison intended for Anders. She stared at it long and hard, until it dawned upon her as the answer to all of her problems. If they could not be together in life, then they could be together in death. Hawke crawled over Anders’ body, and reached out to take the bottle in hand. She peered at the clear contents. Anders said it was tasteless, which is why it was a preferred method among many, leaving the subject clueless until it was too late. For something with such dire consequences, it weighed practically nothing in her hands.

Hawke sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to find any reason not to consume the contents. But she couldn’t think of a single one. Nearly her entire family had left the living many years before. She hadn’t seen her friends in years, no one knew where she lived. She simply vanished from the Anderfels. News of her passing would not reach their ears, as no one in Brynnlaw knew who she was. They would be spared from the pain of her death. It would harm no one.

She spent ten years without Anders. Hawke couldn’t bear to endure another minute without him.

Untwisting the cork of the bottle, she examined the contents inside. For a moment she sat in awe of it all. The fear of death didn’t plague her in the slightest. The only thought that consumed her was that perhaps in her passing of this life, she could be reunited with those she lost. That maybe, just maybe, she would find Anders in the afterlife. That for the first time since she was a girl, she would be at peace. These thoughts welcomed death with open arms, and with one big gulp, she downed the potion in it’s entirety. “I’m so sorry Anders,” she whispered, knowing he would be devastated if he knew what she’d done.

Hawke once again curled up against Anders, her head resting against his chest. As if out of habit, she tried to find the beating of his heart which soothed her on so many nights. What she would give to hear that sound again. Not long after laying her weary head, a burning twisted deep in her chest. Fire consumed her insides, hot and intense, licking at her from within. She twisted in place, curling up in a ball as a sharp cry escaped her throat, burning all the way up. Agonizing pain scraped at her from within, and she began to cough and wheeze, blood trickling out of her mouth, not unlike it had with Anders so many times in his illness. Her body fought to breathe, but air would not fill her lungs. As quick as the pain came, her senses started to numb, and her body relaxed. She could vaguely hear herself coughing as if being pulled underwater, the sound distant and distorted. Darkness consumed her vision, and she welcomed it gladly. Hawke let it envelop her like a lover’s embrace, being pulled away from the cruel world that hurt her so.

Out of the darkness, Anders appeared before her, smiling, as if welcoming her home. In that moment, Hawke knew nothing but peace. After years of heartache and strife, it was all over. She could finally rest.

* * *

  
  
  


_ ‘Emptiness is filling me, to the point of agony. Growing darkness taking dawn, I was me but now he’s gone. No one but me can save myself but it’s too late. Now I can’t think, think why I should even try. Yesterday seems as though it never existed. Death greets me warm, now I will just say goodbye.’ - Fade to Black, originally written by Metallica, Instrumental version performed by Apocalyptica, but the author’s favorite version for this story is by Sonata Arctica. _

  
  


**_Author’s end notes: It took over a year since my last update, and for that I am deeply sorry. My health was dreadful this year which prevented me from writing much at all. Thank you to everyone who has still been following my work. This story was a long time in the making. Also, I must thank one reviewer for the idea of Olaf returning at the end of the story. I had no intentions of writing him again, but a reader mentioned she had a feeling he would return, and it kind of sparked the idea for this ending. So, dear reviewer, thank you for your suggestion!_ **

 

**_I’m sorry if the ending has left anyone disturbed, but from early on I did state it would not be a happy one. As always, I do love to hear from my readers. You guys are what gave me the inspiration to finish this story, even when I lost all inspiration. Thank you for all of your kind words and love. You will never know how much I appreciate each and every one of you :)_ **


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